The Alpha I was Forced to Betray

Chapter 5 - Nico

She recovered fast.

I’ll give her that.

Faster than most would.

But not fast enough to hide it completely.

“You should reject me.”

Straight to the point. Controlled. Like she had already made the decision before I ever had the chance to speak.

“Get it over with,” she added, her voice steady in a way that told me exactly how much effort it took to keep it that way. “Why drag it out?”

My gaze didn’t leave hers.

“I never said anything about rejection.”

The words were quiet. Measured. But they carried enough weight to shift the space between us.

Her expression hardened immediately, something sharper pushing through the guilt now.

“I’m not staying here for you to—” she cut herself off, frustration breaking through the control she’d been holding onto. “I’m not staying here to be punished for something that already happened.”

Punished.

The word settled between us, and for a brief moment, I almost let out a humorless breath.

She still didn’t understand.

She took a step back.

And that—

That was where she made her mistake.

“I, Isla Quinn of—”

I moved before she could finish.

Fast.

Decisive.

My hand came up, firm and immediate, covering her mouth before the words could fully leave it, cutting off the bond before she had the chance to tear it apart.

Her eyes widened against my palm, the shock hitting her instantly, her body going still for half a second as her breath pressed unevenly against my hand.

Good.

“No,” I said, my voice low, controlled, leaving no space for argument. “You don’t get to do that.”

Her hands came up to my wrist, fingers wrapping around it—not weak, not passive, but not strong enough to actually force me away. It wasn’t escape.

It was resistance.

There’s a difference.

“You don’t get to walk back in here,” I continued, my tone even, deliberate, “trigger a bond you can’t control, and decide you’re done with it before it even settles.”

I leaned in slightly, closing the space just enough for her to feel it—not just my proximity, but the weight of it. The control. The certainty.

The fact that I wasn’t going to move.

“You don’t get to leave again.”

The words were quieter now.

But heavier.

That was the part that mattered.

Her breathing picked up against my hand, uneven but controlled enough that I knew she wasn’t breaking—just adjusting. Her eyes didn’t drop. They stayed locked on mine, defiant, steady, refusing to give me anything easy.

Good.

“You made your choice once,” I continued, and this time there was no mistaking what sat underneath the words. No restraint soft enough to hide it.

Just truth.

Cold. Final.

“Now you deal with the consequences.”

Her body stilled—not in submission, not in fear, but in recognition. The kind that settles in before acceptance ever has a chance to follow.

She understood.

Maybe not all of it.

But enough.

I removed my hand slowly, deliberately, giving her the space to speak again—to try it again if she thought she could.

She didn’t.

Not like that.

Because now she knew.

This wasn’t something she could walk away from. Not anymore. Not when I had a say in it.

And I always do.